Deany
by Kadge Rose-Feather
Summary: Dean lands himself in an alternate universe where he is the younger brother! Unfortunately, this also means he's the one who's been having visions, which he struggles to deal with. (Set very early on in Supernatural)


_**Kadge Rose-Feather**_

**2014**

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><p><strong>Deany<strong>

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><p>Dean opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times at the light shining over him.<p>

"Eugh..." He groaned. He could of sworn he'd fallen asleep on the other bed in the motel, but as he glanced over suspiciously, he saw that sure enough, his gargantuan little brother was stretched out peacefully on the other bed, snoring away.

Dean yawned and rolled over, but quite suddenly there was a terribly sharp pain in his temple. Searing, _burning_ right behind his eyes; he put his hands on his head, biting back moans as the world began to tilt and turn fuzzy...

When he could open his eyes again he saw a woman walking through a hotel door; his view seemed to follow her, though he himself wasn't moving.

The place sure looked ritzy. The woman dropped her keys next to a pad that read "Bamboo Towers". Dean followed her as she walked through to the kitchen, drank from a half-empty carton of milk, and then carried on to the bathroom where she began undressing.

Somewhere faintly in Dean's mind he was thinking 'wow', but what he was seeing seemed to override conscious thoughts and all senses.

The show didn't last long though, as a dark figure moved from the corner of the room and in a moment the woman wasn't just standing in front of the shower; she was all over the bathroom.

Dean cringed but it was over, he was brought back to his body rapidly and his head spun. He groaned and clutched desperately at his head as pain shot through him again in waves.

But there was a pair of steady hands on his shoulder and back, an insistent voice talking to him.

"Dean! Deany, it's okay, it was just a vision, breathe."

Dean took a moment to breathe deeply before sitting up, one hand still on my head.

"You alright, buddy?" Sam asked, perching next to Dean on the bed.

Dean looked Sam up and down, then did a double take.

"_'Just a vision'_?" He huffed, furrowing his brows. "Last time I checked, that was your M.O., big guy, not mine. And since when do you call me 'Deany'? And what is up with that haircut? I mean I know I'm one handsome devil, but you ain't gonna get the ladies by copying my style, that's for sure." Dean spoke with his usual cocky manner, but instead of smiling and looking away briefly, Sam frowned intensely; the kind of frown he only wore when something was very, very wrong.

"Uh, Sam? Mind explaining what the _fuck_ is going on here? Why you lookin' at me like that?" Dean asked, not appreciating the cold stare his younger sibling was giving him. _Like he was some kind of freak._

Before Dean could react, Sam had him pinned to the mattress, a silver knife against his throat.

"You better tell me who you are and exactly what the fuck you've done with my little brother." Sam gritted out venomously from between clenched teeth. Dean had never seen Sam look so mad before- his eyes widened beyond belief.

"Woah, woah, Sammy boy... I don't know what you're doing but it _is_ me. Look, test it for yourself." Dean muttered, holding his hands above his head slowly.

Sam raised an eyebrow suspiciously, but grabbed a firm hold on one of his arms nonetheless, dragging the silver knife in a small line over his upper arm. A rivulet of blood trickled out and dean cringed, but there was no supernatural reaction. Sam took a deep breath.

"Okay, so you're not a shifter, doesn't mean you're my brother." Sam muttered, still eyeing Dean sharply.

"God, go get the holy water, then, Buffy!" Dean said, throwing his hands up. He was tired of his brother's suspicions, confused and his head was still hurting like a _bitch_. Hell, if anyone should be suspicious it should be him, yet Sam was the one dragging silver knives over his skin.

His brother eased up.

"You wouldn't of been able to say God if you were possessed..." He got up and walked over to the small kitchenette.

"Finally! I told you-" Dean began, but was cut off as holy water was chucked in his face.

"But just to be sure."

Dean wiped a hand over his face. "What the hell, man? That's not exactly the pleasant wake-up I was expecting after having one of _your_ crappy vision-thingys!"

"What happened in it?" Sam asked coldly, not breaching the distance between the two brothers.

"What happened in it? Why are you asking what happened in it, I'm not the one supposed to be-"

"Dean, _what did you see?"_ Sam asked, in a tone that demanded an answer.

"Some chick got mauled, but why're you ignoring the fact that-"

"Was there a clock?" Sam countered, before Dean could even finish his sentence.

"Huh?" He replied dumbly, narrowing his eyes.

"In your vision, did you see a clock?"

"Uh... Yeah, there was one in the kitchen. Read half nine. But I don't-"

"You get a name? Anything to indicate where she was?"

"She was at a hotel called 'Bamboo Towers', room 308." Dean answered plainly, quietly, he didn't like being drilled like this.

Sam pulled out his laptop and sat down at the table, but Dean wasn't finished with him. "Dude, I'm not just some crystal ball you can use to get all the answers, you know." He mumbled, dragging a hand through his hair. Hang on, since when had his hair ever been that long...?

"A woman's life is at stake, Dean, stop being so petty." Sam told him, giving him one of those looks that made Deans skin crawl, and Dean could guess what was going on in Sam's head; he was thinking that his brother should care more, that Dean should have more compassion. But it wasn't that Dean didn't care, of course he did, he was just so confused and honestly terrified at the moment.

"Sam-" He started, but his brother cut him off.

"It's about a three-hour drive from here. You pack up, we'd better get going." His brother's voice held no room for compromise and Dean felt himself slouch as he obliged. When he carried the bags downstairs, he saw Sam in the front of the Impala waiting for him and he nearly lost his shit.

Dropping the bags in the backseat, he stomped to the front of the car and opened the driver's door.

"What in god's name do you think you're doing, Sam?" Dean muttered, noting the irritation all over his little brother's face. Sam stood and got out of the car, towering over Dean with the worst bitch-face he'd ever seen on that Sasquatch face.

"I could ask you the same goddamn thing. What the fuck is going on with you, Dean?" Sam asked, and although his voice was all anger and tension, he did look very concerned.

"Well for one, I don't remember telling you you could drive my car!" Dean yelled, sparing a glance at his baby, before looking back up at his brother's furrowed brow.

"This is my car, Dean, it has been since Dad gave it to me. Seriously, Deany, what is going on with you!" Sam shouted, shaking his brothers shoulders as if he could snap him out of his delusions, concern etched intensely on his face.

Dean fell back a few steps, gripping his head. It radiated with pain and all the shouting wasn't helping.

"Your visions have never been this bad before..." Sam mused, putting a firm hand on his brother's shoulder, but Dean stubbornly shook him off.

"I've never had visions before!" He screeched, but the world was spinning and fatigue made him fall to his knees.

Before he knew what was going on, his younger brother had scooped him up and was easing him into the passenger seat. He was strapped in before he could protest, and then Sam was behind the wheel.

Ugh, since when had he felt this sick?

"Listen, Dean, I don't know what's going on with you but we'll figure it out after this case, alright. I promise after we've saved this woman, we'll focus on you, Deany."

"Stop calling me Deany…" Dean tried to protest, but it came out as more of a murmur as he slid down in the seat. He couldn't fight the exhaustion anymore- was this how it had been for Sammy?

He fell asleep soon after.

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><p>When Dean awoke, Sam was pulling him out of the car. He pushed his brothers gentle hands off of him, struggling to stand and look up at the ramshackle motel above them.<p>

He staggered as he stepped forward a bit, but still pushed Sam's hand away when it came reaching out to steady him.

"I'm not a freakin' handicap, Sam, jeez!"

Sam shrunk back, a little hurt, worry still carved into his features.

When they got into the room (Sam had already unpacked, paid and pointed out their room to his brother) Dean walked to the mini-bar and pulled out a beer.

"You want one?" He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Sam tried not to frown.

"What happened to 'never drinking on a job'?" He asked, though he sounded mostly tired.

"When the hell have I ever said that, Sam?" Dean fumed, then, biting his lip, grabbed another bottle out of the fridge and held it out to his brother. "You want one or not?"

Sam smirked. "Hell yeah I do. I can't wait to find out what's making you act this way, though, Bobba Fett..." Sam said, though his smirk faltered as brief doubt filtered into his mind. He stamped it out fast. No, they'd found out was going on, they always did. Sam would have his little brother back soon.

Dean rolled his eyes and passed over the beer, then waited while Sam got out the laptop. He shot a quick, expectant look in Dean's direction. Dean took a long sip of beer before letting out a deep sigh.

"What?" He asked, rubbing his temple gently.

"Well, normally you'd be doing the research, but I'm guessing you think that..." Sam bit the inside of his lip, looking away.

"You normally do the research." A bitter laugh. "Yeah, I'm pretty useless at it. I can give it a go, but you were always the hotshot lawyer of the family." He muttered, making his way over to the laptop nonetheless.

Sammy got out another beer.

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><p>An hour and a half later, Sam had visited the room, got intel on the girl, and Dean had investigated the ghost.<p>

"Okay, let's go salt and burn this bitch." Dean said, a sardonic smile plastered on his face.

"No, you're staying here. It's a simple task, I'll do it myself."

"What? Sam, you're not ditching me here." Dean countered, feeling like he was about to choke.

"With how your visions have been lately... I just don't want you to get hurt. You might get in the way. Don't worry, I'll be quick and careful." Sam's voice was clipped, insistent, no-nonsense.

"Sam, you're not fucking _leaving_ me h-" Dean screeched as he fell forward a step, but he faltered, nearly fell. Sam rushed him over to a bed and he realised bitterly, that he was far too tired to protest at all. The fatigue was so bad... He could barely move.

But Sam was moving; leaving, in fact. He'd locked the door before Dean had any time to react and even as he tried to sit up and move to chase after his brother, his head drilled him with agonizing pain and he lurched back against the mattress. "Well this fucking sucks." He muttered to himself, massaging his eyes again none-too-gently.

It was several hours later when Sam returned, breathing a sigh of relief when he not only found Dean safe and were he left him- but asleep as well.

He picked up his cell and gave Bobby a call.

"Yeah, Bobby, it's me. It's about Dean... Something's wrong with him. I don't know what. No, no I checked for that... Yeah, he's just different. God, Bobby, not like that! Okay, I'm sorry, listen, something is wrong with Dean, we'll be there soon and then you'll see, okay?"

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><p>The car ride was awkward, Dean was in the worst pain ever. It wasn't just that it was bad – it was that it had gone from coming in short bursts to pounding constantly. Jeez, what the hell was wrong with him?<p>

He tried to down more pills, still feeling weird being the one in the passengers seat, but Sam's hand held him back.

"Dean, you've taken too many already, I don't think you should do that." His voice was stern though caring, yet made Dean's skin crawl; it just wasn't _right_, it was Dean's role to say things like that, not Sammy's.

He tried to relax, to listen more wholly to the voice that spoke quietly to sit back and soak it up, but he couldn't.

When they arrived at Bobby's, Dean was restless and irritated, which in turn caused Sammy to be an over-concerned bitch from the minute they walked in the door.

"Welcome back, boys." Bobby greeted, but the way he smiled at Dean made him feel uneasy.

When he handed them both a beer, Dean sculled his down pretty quickly, earning himself strange looks from both his brother and his father-figure. He rolled is eyes.

"Oh, for god's sake, I'm going to bed." He muttered, downing four more aspirins on his way out of the kitchen, much to Sam's horror.

"I've lived through worse, I'm pretty sure a couple aspirin ain't gonna kill me, Sammy…" Dean mumbled before retiring to the guest room, leaving his brother and Bobby to converse and discuss him for as long as they pleased.

Despite being completely exhausted, Dean found he couldn't sleep that night.

He kept changing positions, closing and opening his eyes, focusing on his breathing, focusing on fantasies, but nothing seemed to work.

"Fucking hell…" He muttered under his breath, looking over at Sam's massive lump-like shape on the other bed- the bigger one.

He sighed to himself, resigning himself to what he was just about to do.

He pulled the covers back sheepishly and trotted over to his supposedly "older" brother's bed, feeling like a naughty child who'd wet the bed.

"Sam," He whispered, shaking his brother's shoulder. "Sammy."

His brother stirred, breathing in sharply and opening one eyes.

"Wha- Dean- you alright?" He grumbled, reaching an arm out to touch Dean's stomach for some reason. "Did you have a nightmare, orravision?" Sam slurred, still half-asleep.

"No, I just can't sleep, can I-" Dean swallowed his pride bitterly, but before he even brought himself to ask, Sam was scooting over as if this was a normal occurrence between him and Dean.

When Dean squeezed himself in next to the giant, Sam even wrapped his arms around his waist, which at first made him feel like a bit of a girl, but after a couple minutes just helped him relax and get comfortable.

He fell fast asleep easily after that.

As Dean wandered out to the smell of Bobby's infamous pancakes in the morning, Bobby and his brother's banter came to an abrupt halt. He glared stormily, and Sam gave him an awkward smile.

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><p><strong>It's not very good but please tell me what you think? Any suggestions on how you'd like to see it continued? xx<strong>


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